


Intimate Observations

by methylviolet10b



Series: Intimate [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: ACD Canon Characters - Freeform, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes in the pursuit of knowledge, excellence, and Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimate Observations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistyzeo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/gifts).



> Written for mistyzeo, in response to the following prompt: I want... something happening at midnight. Midnight and happening of your choosing. 
> 
> Warnings: No beta, sorry. And this will make a lot more sense if you read the first story in this series before this one, Intimate Acquaintance.

  
  
  
  
I was a complete amateur when I took John Watson as my lover.  
  
Strictly speaking, that is not precisely true, not in the exact meaning of the word. To say I was an amateur implies that I had some knowledge of the subject already, some desire to pursue my course of action based on prior experience of enjoyment or pleasure. This was not the case. I had never before personally experienced sexual congress with anyone else, male or female; all my knowledge was limited to observation of others, and the pleasure I had found from my own hand upon my flesh. I was, in short, a virgin, but one well aware of my own desires, and with a thorough, if theoretical, knowledge of what was possible with a willing partner.  
  
My Watson was not only willing, but experienced, thoughtful, and skilled. He guided me through our first encounter, easily accommodating my every desire, and anticipating my wishes, often seeming to know what I wanted – needed – even before I did myself.  Moreover, he trusted me right from the start. He allowed me to take him, that first time, despite knowing that I had no practical experience.  The pleasure of sheathing myself within him was overwhelming, beyond anything I ever expected. The heat, the pressure; the sight of my lean hips pressing into his taut backside, glimpses of my member as it slid between his cheeks; the rippling of muscles in his back; the sound of his voice, encouraging me on; the flash of his eyes, as he looked over his shoulder and devoured me with his gaze; all combined to bring me to orgasm in a shockingly short amount of time. I briefly lost track of everything, my body, my Watson, the room around me; aware of nothing but overpowering pleasure surging through every nerve.  
  
I might have felt some embarrassment at the strength of my reactions, save for two things: I was completely incapable of such thoughts in the immediate aftermath, and my Watson gave me no reason to feel so. In my ignorance, I assumed that all such encounters were of similarly short duration, for how could it be otherwise, with such incredible sensations?  
  
So I reasoned, and so I believed, until my Watson obliged my request the following night and took me as I had taken him. The sensations on my part were different, of course, but pleasurable enough, if not so intense – at least not until Watson moved just so within me, and white fire blazed along every nerve. Then it was all I could do to keep quiet, and not lose my head completely between the feeling of his hand frigging my cockstand and his skillful, directed thrusts within me. My climax took longer to achieve, but was all the more intense for that.  And the sensations I felt immediately afterwards, still shuddering with bliss while he moved hard and sure inside me, were exquisite in an entirely new way.  
  
It was only afterwards, after we had collapsed into his bed and I lay resting with my head on his good shoulder, feeling him run gentle fingers through my hair, that I recalled how different Watson’s actions had been from my own as the penetrating partner. He had not come swiftly, as I had done when buried within him, but instead remained firmly in control of himself until well after I had spent myself between his fingers.  How was this possible? Had he not enjoyed himself, as I had done the night before?  
  
He chuckled when I asked him that, a wry smile quirking beneath his moustache. “Hardly, my dear. I enjoyed myself very much, as you must have observed. It took a great deal of restraint not to come the moment I bottomed out within you, I assure you.”  
  
“Then why didn’t you?”  
  
Watson’s arm tightened around me, and the fingers of his other hand stilled in my hair. “Didn’t you enjoy how it felt, me moving inside you?”  
  
“I believe my enjoyment was sufficiently obvious,” I snorted.  
  
“And that is why. I resisted the immediate pleasure because I knew how much better it would be for us both if I did.” He must have sensed that I wanted to know more, for he continued almost immediately, resuming his caresses across my scalp as he spoke.  “It is simply a matter of practice, my dear fellow, and of knowing how much greater the pleasure can be for both people if the penetrating partner can withstand the initial impetus. Which, I grant, required a great deal of fortitude on my part, more than I have ever needed. You are exquisite.”  
  
I could not help preening a bit at that. It was immensely satisfying knowing I had given Watson such pleasure tonight.  
  
But what of the night before? My performance then could hardly have been satisfactory, not when compared to Watson’s tonight. I could not have given him anywhere near the pleasure he had bestowed upon me. Not that he had said a word indicating anything but satisfaction, but I knew my Watson, and I knew he never would. He was far too courteous, a complete gentleman as well as a considerate lover.  
  
No, he would never complain, but I had work to do all the same. I was determined to be worthy of the example he set. I simply had to apply my will and overcome the instinctive urges of the flesh, just as I had mastered other bodily needs. I had no doubt that my willpower would prove sufficient, now that I knew what was needed.  
  
A case came the next morning, one that kept me fully occupied for some days. As is my habit, I dismissed all other matters from my mind until I had resolved the matter to my satisfaction. But as soon as I had, my attention returned fully to the bodily needs I had put aside – for food, for a bath, for rest, and for my Watson, not necessarily in that order.  
  
It was early evening by the time we returned to Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson served us a late supper, and then I refreshed myself with a long bath. By the time I emerged, Mrs. Hudson had cleared away the dinner-things, and I heard the sounds of her preparing to retire for the evening. Nonetheless, I made sure that Watson and I remained in our sitting-room until well past eleven-thirty, just to be sure she and the rest of the household were well abed and safely in the arms of Morpheus.  
  
At which point I lost no time in coaxing Watson up the stairs to his room and into _my_ arms. Not that he took much persuading. Nor was it terribly difficult to divest him of his clothing, or bring him to a state of panting arousal. He, of course, returned the favor with considerable skill and dexterity, almost too much so. It would be too easy to lose control, indulge myself in his caresses, let him guide me in yet more ways to bring each other off. I wanted that, but not just then; this night, I wanted to try and apply the example Watson had given me.  
  
My Watson made no objection when I whispered what I wanted to do into his ear. He merely smiled, then proceeded to trail kisses down my throat while he reached one-handed for the tin of ointment on his bedside table.  
  
All went as I intended until I breached him. He was so warm, so firm around me, so unlike anything I had experienced by my own hand. The sensations were just as overwhelming as they had been the first time.  I bit my lip and stopped when I was no more than halfway inside, struggling to control myself.  
  
“Holmes?” Watson’s soft query was scarcely audible over the thundering of my pulse in my ears.  
  
“Just…a moment,” I ground out, somehow managing the words. I would master this, I would…  I opened my eyes – surprised to discover I had closed them – and saw Watson regarding me, his pupils dilated with lust, but a concerned furrow forming on his brow. The combination of desire and care nearly undid me. My hips jerked forward involuntarily, and Watson sighed approval as I filled him. It was delicious to hear, but did not help my faltering control.  
  
I shifted my hips, trying to find the angle in him that had produced such overwhelming results in me. Unfortunately my ardor increased far faster than his. I found it increasingly impossible to resist the urge to thrust, to take, to give into the fire sparking at the edge of my vision…  
  
Somewhere outside, a church-clock began to toll midnight. Somehow the sound triggered something within me, and I lost all restraint. I thrust wildly and came with such force that I failed to hear the remaining bells.  
  
“I’m sorry,” I gasped as soon as I regained enough sense of self to speak. Watson was warm and solid beneath me, but I felt him stir at my words. My softening flesh slipped free of his body as he maneuvered until I was lying by his side and he could see my face.  
  
“Whatever for?”  
  
My cheeks burned with vexation. “I fear I did not last long enough to give you any pleasure, not as you did to me.”  I scowled. “I meant to.”  
  
A brief expression of incredulity flickered across Watson’s expressive features, and then one side of his moustache quirked up in a smile. “You gave me a great deal of pleasure, Holmes.” He gestured at himself with a hand that trembled slightly. “Observe the body of evidence yourself, if you don’t believe me.”  
  
Indeed, a quick perusal of my friend’s anatomy showed that he had indeed found his release, although when it had happened continued to elude my conscious mind. I suspected it happened sometime after I had reached my own, and said as much. “I wanted you to finish first,” I grumbled.  
  
Watson chuckled softly. “I know your desire for perfection in your chosen pursuits, Holmes, and so I shall not attempt to dissuade you. I shall simply have to resign myself to further practice until you are completely satisfied with the outcome.”  
  
The amused twinkle in his eye dissolved the last of my dissatisfaction. Not my determination to do better – no, never that – but it became a goal, not a matter of immediate frustration. “I’m afraid so, my dear fellow. I’m terribly sorry for any inconvenience to you, of course.”  
  
His put-upon sigh was as false as my contrition, but his yawn was very real. “I suppose I shall simply have to endure.”  
  
I curled closer, relishing his warmth and feeling fatigue pull at my own limbs. "Indeed."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted January 29, 2014.


End file.
